Said the Spider
by Self-san
Summary: AU. A quick look in the life of teenaged Spock. 3/5 Sequel to Come In and To My Parlor.


Disclaimer: I own nothing of Star Trek

A/N: Just another day with teen!Spock and Stonny. 3/5

*

Spock hissed quietly through his teeth as he concentrated on the canvas in front of him. It was almost done.

He frowned and leaned over to dip his brush into his palate. He carefully mixed the correct color he required and then leaned back to his piece and gently created his shadow.

He tapped the wooden end of his paintbrush to his lips in a rapid repetition before he levered himself carefully up to his feet. He set his paintbrush down and stepped backwards and looked at his art.

He knees hurt from sitting cross-legged so long, but what he was concerned over was-

"Spock?"

He yelped, spinning around quickly. His feet tangled and he fell backwards- only to have his arm caught by his surprise…r. Stonn.

He scowled as he stepped out of the hold the other Vulcan had on his arm, brushing his hands on his pants self-consciously. He was covered in art.

The sun shone on his back from over the house, and Stonn raised a hand to shield his eyes.

"What's up?" Spock asked, pointedly looking at the other.

Stonn cocked an eyebrow at him, and Spock cocked one back. He hated that expression that so many others seemed to wear.

"Is this not the appointed time in which we agreed to confer?"

Spock looked at his watched, and blanched, looking up to stare at his friend with horror.

"Man, I though I said a reasonable time! It's only 7:00!"

Stonn's head tilted questioningly.

"If I hadn't been unable to sleep, I would've been sleeping till noon." Spock explained, taking glee from seeing Stonn's eyes widen incredulously.

"Surely not." Stonn stated, stunned.

"Surely so." Spock mimicked, smile stretching his face.

Stonn shook his head wonderingly, unable to believe that his normally studious, hardworking friend would ever even consider sleeping so late. Wasting so much time that he could use for more constructive things…like learning.

Then again, Stonn considered, looking at the messy Spock, his friend _had_ been raised by a human…

"Well," Spock sighed, "We might as well start. Why don't you come in."

He resigned as he packed up his painting supplies in their bucket, setting the still wet canvas on top to serve as an impromptu lid.

He jerked his head to let Stonn ahead of him, and in they went.

"Why don't you head into the kitchen. I'll run upstairs and grab my things."

Leaving his friend, Spock ran up the stairs and quickly put his things away, laying his wet piece atop his neat bed. He grabbed his book bag and hurtled himself back down the stairs, almost tripping as he rounded the sharp corner and went into the kitchen. His hair flew around him in a wave, and he impatiently pushed it behind his ears as he plopped his stuff down on the countertop and scrambled onto a barstool.

Stonn was sitting on the other side of the island, his hands neatly folded in his lap and his clothing pristine.

It reminded Spock that he must look like a mess.

Paint stained his hands and colored under his fingernails, his pants were his long loved, heavily holed paint pants, and he was just wearing a ratty undershirt that was almost too small for him.

Certainly NOT the best of pictures.

He tried to soundly ignore it as he dug out his advanced Physics When Applied to Mechanics book and placed it between himself and Stonn. Spock shifted, folding his bare feet beneath himself and sitting on his knees as he leaned across the table to point out the lesson to Stonn.

He would've much preferred to continue painting, or hell, even reading, but since the start of their tentative friendship, and Stonn had learned the position the younger boy had in the Academy, Spock had agreed to feed Stonn's ever loving obsession of Physics and…Mechanics. Preferably both…mixed together…and as much as possible.

Spock had put his foot down on the every two day thing that Stonn had requested at first. Spock was busy with the Academy, and Stonn DID have school to complete, so they had compromised on every Wednesday and Saturday. Meeting at Spock's, eating, studying, and Spock preparing his older friend on the final examinations that Stonn would have.

It was at times like this though, that Spock was most acutely aware of what he had lost…and gained.

Mentally shaking himself, Spock licked his lips and leaned over further, letting the photographic memory he had parade around for Stonn the lessons Spock was taking, and the work he was doing. Overall, Spock decided as he pointed out the engine equations on the layout for the new engine he was helping to create, it was just another day on Vulcan.


End file.
